


Serendipitously Yours

by Samtastique



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Chemistry student Sherlock, E rating for later chapters, Friends to Lovers, Heartbreak, Idiots in Love, Jealous John, Jealous Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Med Student John, Missed Chances, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Reconciliation, Rugby Captain John, Serendipity - Freeform, Sherlock Holmes and John watson - Freeform, Slow Burn, Uni!lock, Work In Progress, ballet!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:23:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9944087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samtastique/pseuds/Samtastique
Summary: Sherlock is known for screwing up the good things in his life. John's life consists of school, rugby, and taking care of his family problems. Thanks to fate, and to Mycroft's worrisome meddling, John and Sherlock end up sharing a room at uni. Sherlock and John are so close to each other, yet life's little mysteries and meddling people keep getting in their way and causing them to miss their chances to be together. Will Sherlock and John ever be together or will everything prove to be too much?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic ever and amidst all the controversy over season 4 I was wondering if it was even worth writing something when our fandom is so broken, but I think that writing and creating art will only help bring our fandom back together, so here is my contribution. This is my first fanfic and I do not have a beta, so all mistakes made are my own (I did read over this and edited it like 7 times so I hope there aren't very many). If you like this please don't hesitate to leave a comment! You can also follow me on Tumblr and send me a message about the story if you'd like! @bethewatsontomysherlock. Alright, I'll stop rambling and let you get to the story!

At least this time he had lasted two weeks. Honestly, the school made such a fuss over it. The bodies were used to teach the students and that had been all he was doing, he had been learning… after hours and after breaking in, but what did it matter?! The professors were useless, the classes too slow, and Mycroft had paid off all local sellers so he couldn’t get a fix, he was going mad!  
The one good outcome of the expulsion was that now Sherlock was getting transferred to Sherrinford university which was conveniently located far enough from Mycroft’s house that he would be living in the dorms and no longer under Mycroft’s roof.  
“You best not do anything while I’m gone, brother mine,” Mycroft called out to Sherlock as he grabbed his coat and umbrella.  
“Why? What are you doing to do? I am already forcibly living with you, an arrangement which you so carefully calculated and are going to terminate soon enough,” Sherlock called back from his seat on the slightly scorched sofa (a particularly nasty experiment involving fire and its effects on dyed leather which may or may not have neatly coincided with the time Mycroft had scolded Sherlock about his behavior at school).  
“You are nineteen years old Sherlock, start behaving like it,” Mycroft replied as he walked out the door, closing it before Sherlock could respond. Sherlock glared at the door before laying back down and going back to his mind palace.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“So, it says here that your brother was expelled from Imperial College London, but there’s also a signature from a sergeant from Scotland Yard,” headmaster Dimmock said as he read through Sherlock’s compilation of school files.  
“Yes, there was an incident that the school deemed required the presence of sergeant Milton, but as you can see Sherlock is eligible to enroll here at Sherrinford,” Mycroft said as she slightly shifted in his seat. He hated these small chairs, made so to increase the power of the man sitting behind the desk in a slightly bigger chair; a pesky trick of intimidation that Mycroft also utilized in his office.  
“What is it that he did?” Dimmock asked, once again looking at the transfer sheet looking for the reason of expulsion.  
“I do believe those documents read ‘impudent behavior’, which I believe is explication enough,” Mycroft retorted sitting back and looking directly at the man sitting before him.  
“We don’t just accept anyone here. We have a reputation to uphold, Mr. Holmes. So, I’ll ask again, what did he do?” Dimmock asked impatiently, holding Mycroft’s gaze.  
“Oh yes, I know all about your reputation,” Mycroft replied with a smug smile, “I also know all about Professor Anderson’s extracurricular activities with his underage student. I do believe the course was very hands on.”  
“What are you talking about, Mr. Holmes! Who told you such a thing?! Now you listen to me, I am the headmaster of this institution and my job entails –” Dimmock began but Mycroft cut him off.  
“Yes, I know your job entails keeping scandals such as those quiet so your precious school, but more importantly the donations from your incredibly wealthy boosters, don’t suffer. But, you see, my job entails finding out the things people like you try to sweep under the rug and use it to the advantage of interested parties, in this case said interested party is me,” Mycroft said leaning back and tapping his foot with his umbrella.  
“Th-this is blackmail th-this is extortion! Y-you can’t --” Dimmock spluttered.  
“It’s not blackmail or extortion, Sherlock is a young man of exceptional capabilities, some of which are good and some of which are… not so good depending on the chosen criteria. He is more than capable and frankly, overly qualified, to be attending this school. If anything, I’m doing you a favour by enrolling him here. And as to the latter statement, I can blackmail you if I so desire or if you drive me to doing so. I’m sure you are now aware that I have more than enough information to expose your precious school,” Mycroft replied condescendingly.  
“You bastard,” Dimmock muttered as he fell back on his chair in defeat.  
“Well, now that we’re on the same page I’d like you to arrange Sherlock’s lodging accommodations and to arrange for him to shadow a notable student on his first day here, which would require him missing classes on that first day,” Mycroft said sternly sitting up closer to the desk.  
“What? You just said your problematic little brother was of exceptional quality, I’m sure he doesn’t need to shadow another student,” Dimmock grumbled as he logged into his computer to look at dormitory availabilities.  
“Sherlock is an apt albeit precarious individual who is capable of greatness, but he also has a knack for finding people who are mundane and who engage in abhorrent and many times illicit activities. Find him someone who is noteworthy and of strong character to shadow, but they must not be dull, that will only drive him to find his thrills elsewhere,” Mycroft said, recalling his brother’s various chosen activities at previous universities.  
“We will not allow –” Dimmock began but he looked over and saw Mycroft staring him down and gave in, “Alright, your brother will be living in the Bleecker dormitories.”  
“No, he will not. I want you to place him in the Baker dormitories,” Mycroft said sternly but nonchalantly.  
“He is a chemistry major is he not?” Dimmock asked through gritted teeth as he focused on not yelling at the very frustrating Mycroft Holmes.  
“He is,” Mycroft replied.  
“The natural science majors are assigned to the Bleecker dormitories, the medicine students are placed in Baker,” Dimmock replied curtly.  
“Typically,” Mycroft said, “The science majors are typically placed in the Bleecker dormitories and the medicine students in Baker. I’m sure there are exceptions to student placement and said exception will be extended to Sherlock Holmes.”  
“You’re getting your way with everything else, do you really have to throw a fit about the dormitories as well?! Why can’t he live in Bleecker?” Dimmock huffed.  
“He will live in Baker because I said that’s where I want him to live. It’s a large campus and that dormitory is more accessible to me for visits,” Mycroft drawled.  
“Really? You’re fighting because you can’t be arsed to drive ten more minutes to get to the Bleecker dormitory?” Dimmock exclaimed.  
“You have a great school here headmaster Dimmock. Very posh and with relatively intelligent professors and quasi-capable students, yet it’s the large charitable donations that keep the prestige up for this university,” Mycroft began.  
“He is accepted here, there’s no need for blackmail. Besides, Professor Anderson was fired immediately,” Dimmock chimed in.  
“I’m not blackmailing you, I’m simply educating you on your school’s history, or at least that’s what I would do if you would let me finish. And I happen to know that Professor Anderson is on sabbatical leave and was not actually fired,” Mycroft said, waiting for Dimmock to cut in again but he simply shut his mouth and waited for Mycroft to proceed.  
“As I was saying, this school thrives off of booster’s donations. Now, the most reputable donators get their names placed somewhere or another, whether it be on scholarships, plaques, or buildings. The Baker dormitory was so named because of a young woman who attended this school during its early years and who brought it much distinguishment based on her intellect and achievements. Her name was Susan Louise Baker,” Mycroft continued.  
“Yes, yes. What’s that got to do with your brother?!” Dimmock annoyingly replied, not enjoying being lectured at.  
“Susan Louise Baker went on to become Susan Louise Holmes,” Mycroft finished waiting for Dimmock’s reaction. Any haughty reply died on Dimmock’s tongue as he realized what Mycroft was saying.  
“I sure that you now realize there is a still a continuing fund under Susan’s name that contributes a considerable amount of money to this school yearly, money that is supposed to go towards renovations of the Baker dormitory, but I’m sure is utilized for other things,” Mycroft continued, the smug smile once again finding its way on his face.  
“Fine, fine! I’ll place Sherlock in the Baker dormitory. But if your family donates money to us why not enroll Sherlock here in the first place?” Dimmock questioned begrudgingly as he looked up the available rooms in the Baker dormitory.  
“Our family name and trust is associated with various universities. I only recently moved to central London and the location of Sherrinford University was not convenient until now,” Mycroft answered truthfully.  
“There is a single room available –”  
“No, he can’t be left to his own devices, he’ll starve, not attend classes, or burn down the wing,” Mycroft replied, “He needs a roommate.”  
“There is one open double room on the second floor with only one resident. He will be in room 221B, that’s in the southern wing. I hope that will suit you,” Dimmock replied in a mocking tone.  
“Yes, that will do just fine. I don’t care who the other resident is, if accommodations need to be made he can take the single and someone else can move in with Sherlock,” Mycroft said matter-of-factly.  
“You must really care about and love your brother if you’re doing all of this and subjecting me to it,” Dimmock replied printing out Sherlock dormitory information and handing it to Mycroft.  
“I worry about him constantly. And believe me, headmaster, I would also rather not be here, but what can I do? He’s my brother,” Mycroft said taking the paper from Dimmock.  
“I’ll arrange for him to shadow his roommate, it’ll make it easier for them to know each other sooner rather than later, and from then he can then meet other people who live in his same building. I know the kid, the roommate, studying to be a doctor, he’s a good bloke. I’ll inform the necessary parties and get Sherlock excused from his courses on Monday. All he has to do is be here by eight a.m.” Dimmock said looking at Mycroft for any complaints.  
“Very well, thank you for your time,” Mycroft said getting up and stretching Dimmock’s hand.  
“It was not a pleasure, but I’m thankful we got all of this sorted,” Dimmock replied honestly, shaking Mycroft’s hand.  
“I appreciate the honesty headmaster Dimmock. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again later. Have a good day,” Mycroft said as he walked out the door.  
“I already regret this,” Dimmock mumbled as he began to send emails to professors about the proceedings on Monday.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
As soon as Mycroft stepped foot inside his house later that night a faintly sweet smell caught his attention. He hung up his coat and umbrella and grabbed Sherlock’s school documents.  
“That better not be chloroform that I sm–” Mycroft began but stopped as soon as he stepped into his living room to find Sherlock laying on the couch reading a book with one of Mycroft’s most capable security guards on the floor next to him.  
“Hello brother, how was your afternoon?” Sherlock asked as he turned the page of his chemistry textbook. Mycroft closed his eyes and counted to five, after the burnt couch he didn’t want Sherlock getting handsy with anything else.  
“I’m sure whatever he did did not merit you chloroforming him,” Mycroft reluctantly said as he made his way into the kitchen to make himself some tea. Tomorrow was Monday, all he had to do was put up with Sherlock for a couple more hours and then he’d be able to have some peace. He loved his brother, but if Sherlock was ever bored he, his furniture, or his employees always ended up paying for it.  
“He kept hovering,” Sherlock said jumping over the security guard and following Mycroft into the kitchen  
“Yes, that is what he is paid for,” Mycroft replied absentmindedly as he set the documents down and began to look for clean mugs amidst the dirty beakers his brother insisted on putting in the same cabinet.  
“He’ll wake up in a few hours. Mycroft, if I’m to live in the dormitories I do not want any hovering and ‘undercover’ but actually stand-out-like-a-sore-thumb security guards following my every move,” Sherlock announced as he jumped onto the counter.  
“What makes you think I care so much as to dole out security guards?” Mycroft said as he poured two cups of tea, inconspicuously sliding one towards Sherlock, learning after years of living with his little brother that if you place food or drink in front of him without making a fuss he’ll unconsciously eat them.  
“Oh I don’t know, it could be your overbearing insistence on playing mother and constantly worrying and trying to control my every move. Mycroft, you’ve arranged my two school transfers just this month plus all the ones in the past, you force me to live with you, you always have one bodyguard assigned to me at all times, and you moved to central London just to be closer to me at one of the only universities left that will still accept me or that I haven’t damaged,” Sherlock said as he sipped at his tea.  
Mycroft was about to reply when he realized Sherlock was right. He was so involved in his brother’s life that his own life began to revolve around him. He had always made sure Sherlock had the best care and education even though that meant constantly transferring him schools. He had uprooted his life and moved to central London; yes, it would now be easier to get to his parliamentary office but he hadn’t thought about that until after he had thought about Sherlock’s education.  
“Alright,” Mycroft replied with a small smile, “no bodyguards little brother. Just promise me –”  
“You aren’t going to do something as pedestrian as to ask me to behave, are you? You still have another couch and I do still have my flamethrower,” Sherlock said, with a matching smile on his face.  
“No, I know better than that brother mine. Just promise me to not burn down any wings or to torment any of the professors too much. Also, once you’re done snooping around in the school’s morgue make sure to put everything away and to clean your prints. And if you’re to do anything illicit please do it sometime in the morning or early afternoon, you know I hate leaving the house late at night,” Mycroft said as he put a couple of biscuits on a plate and set it between Sherlock and himself.  
“I won’t burn down any wings, but I can’t make any promises about classrooms. I will not torture the professors too much if they aren’t complete morons. Also, I cleaned my prints at Imperial, they caught me because I happened to drop a beaker while the janitor was passing by not because I was so careless as to not wipe my prints. And lastly, I solemnly swear to try to contain my illicit activities to earlier in the day, obviously not because you asked but because I get an extra thrill from doing those things in the light of day,” Sherlock replied as he popped a biscuit in his mouth.  
“Of course, whatever you say, little brother,” Mycroft said, a bit smug every time he was able to spend some quality time with his brother.  
“Drop the condescending ‘little brother’ and I promise I won’t chloroform the headmaster on the first week,” Sherlock said looking up at his brother.  
“Oh little brother, his name is Dimmock and I will point you in the direction of his office,” Mycroft said as he and Sherlock broke out in laughter.  
“I’ll have someone move your things in and arrange them, all you have to do is pack your clothes, everything else will be taken care of,” Mycroft said after the hearty laugh he and his brother shared.  
“I’ve already packed everything,” Sherlock said and upon seeing Mycroft’s raised eyebrow he added, “I was bored after you left and after I knocked out that security guard. See? You drove me to do something domestic before I was even asked, I need to get out of here,”  
“I also arranged for you to shadow someone tomorrow to make it easier for you to transition. I know you don’t like people and I know that you are not a child but I actually think that Sherrinford might be a good fit for you. Please do this Sherlock, you’ve already been excused from all of your classes tomorrow and I have been reliably informed that the student you are to shadow is exceptional and not at all dull, all you have to do is show up,” Mycroft said giving Sherlock the documents that Dimmock had given him.  
“I presume you’re accompanying me tomorrow morning,” Sherlock said taking the papers.  
“I am, I just want to see you off and make sure you get there on time,” Mycroft honestly replied.  
“Very well, I’m off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Sherlock said jumping off the counter and making his way towards his bedroom.  
“Goodnight, Sherlock,” Mycroft said putting the dishes in the sink.  
“Thank you for everything, Mycroft,” Sherlock mumbled and by the time Mycroft turned around, he was already gone.  
“You’re welcome little brother,” Mycroft said as he went to go check up on his unconscious security guard.  
Sherlock got into bed and put the documents on his nightstand. He had done this multiple times, going to a new school, so why was he so nervous? He laid down and as he went to turn off his lamp he grabbed the file instead. He was going to live in 221B Baker dormitory, his declared major was chemistry, and he was sharing a double room with John H. Watson, who also was, coincidentally, the person he was to shadow tomorrow. He put the documents away, turned off his lamp, and fell into a fitful sleep.

“Sherlock get up, we have to get going,” Mycroft said as he knocked loudly on the door. Sherlock reluctantly popped his head out from under his blankets and opened one eye to look at his alarm clock.  
“Mycroft, it’s six in the bloody morning!” Sherlock called out angrily.  
“You’ve gotten up earlier for experiments. Get up, you need to have some breakfast and I need to get to work a bit earlier today. Hurry, we need to get your clothes and other things in the car, little brother,” Mycroft answered as he ceased his knocking. At the condescending yet endearing title, Sherlock threw a shoe at the door. Mycroft laughed at the childish yet expected response.  
“Go away Mycroft!” Sherlock yelled back.  
“If you get out of bed now I’ll let you take your flamethrower,” Mycroft said. When he heard the pitter patter of his brother's feet he knew he’d won.  
“I hate you, tubby,” said an angry and sleep-rumpled Sherlock as he opened the door and glared at his brother.  
“Good morning to you too brother mine,” Mycroft said as he went into the kitchen to make some chocolate chip pancakes (Sherlock’s favourite) and tea. Sherlock slammed his door and went to take a quick shower. Once he got out, he smelled chocolate chip pancakes and tea.  
“Oh Mycroft, sentiment, tut tut,” Sherlock whispered to no one and walked over to the outfit he had picked out yesterday.  
Sherlock had a flair for being dramatic and today was no exception. He picked his best black suit, a black button up, and his new black oxford shoes. He got dressed and went to blow dry his hair and mess around with it until he got it to look presentable. God, he hated his curly hair but his arsenal of expensive products made his hair manageable and left it smelling like sandalwood. He looked at himself in the mirror and, like always, reminded himself that he’d never fit in.  
“You’ll do fine. They’ll all be idiots anyway,” He muttered to himself and, after grabbing his school files, made his way out of his bedroom but stopped when he saw a bodyguard standing beside his door.  
“Are you the same one that I knocked out yesterday?” Sherlock asked.  
“Yes, sir,” the man said through gritted teeth.  
“Bit of a lump no? I didn’t really try to catch you anyway,” Sherlock smirked and walked to the kitchen.  
“Oh you have a great first day of school far enough away from here, sir,” the bodyguard muttered as he made his way into Sherlock’s room to grab his suitcases. Sherlock sat down at the kitchen table and began eating his pancake.  
“How far is Sherrinford from here?” Sherlock asked as Mycroft turned off the stove and went to have breakfast with him.  
“About 45 minutes, we have to leave soon,” Mycroft said looking at his watch and noting that it was a quarter to seven, “Richard should be done loading your stuff in the car soon and he’ll go on ahead of us, get your key, and set your things up in the dormitory.”  
“Richard?” Sherlock asked, genuinely confused.  
“That man that you knocked out yesterday. Really, Sherlock? It’s bad form to not know someone’s name before you chloroform them,” Mycroft chided as he put another pancake on his brother’s plate.  
“Oh right, I’ll make sure to ask next time. His name is Dimmock, right?” Sherlock smirked as he dug into his second pancake. Mycroft could only smile as he grabbed the paper and began eating his own breakfast.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Keep your legs up and hustle!” the coach yelled at the group of guys running around the field.  
“It’s seven in the bloody morning, it’s nine bloody degrees outside, and we’re wearing bloody shorts. My balls are so far up my –” Greg started but John cut him off.  
“Mate, I don’t want to throw up before classes even start,” John said trying to run and talk at the same time.  
“All I’m saying is he can lay off a bit. He’s sitting down and wearing sweats!” Greg whined.  
“He may not run with us but he’s still fit,” John called back.  
“Oh Watson, have you been ogling the coach?” Victor chimed in. Victor and John weren’t exactly friends, John was rugby captain and Victor wasn’t happy about it, always slightly defying John’s rules during practice enough to make John mad but not enough to get caught out by coach, but Victor and Greg got along well enough so John put up with him for Greg’s sake.  
“No, just stating a fact, Trevor,” John answered.  
“Oi careful there Johnny boy, don’t get too worked up defending your fit boyfriend,” Greg said and started laughing with Victor.  
“Oh piss off,” John replied and ran until he was ahead of the pack. If they already teased him like that and it got to him so much, John couldn’t even imagine what would happen if they knew he was bisexual. John got lost in thinking about his sexuality and how his friends would take it, that it wasn’t until coach blew the whistle that he noticed he had run an extra half mile during the time it took everyone else to finish their four miles.  
“Alright ladies, go on and shower up before classes start. Get ready to practice some drills during after school practice. You’re free to go,” the coach said as everyone began to walk towards their gym bags, “Watson, come here,” he called out and Greg whistled as John made his way towards the coach. John swore to punch him later.  
“Yes, coach?” John asked once he was standing in front of Coach Agar.  
“Headmaster Dimmock sent me this email yesterday. A young man named Sherlock Holmes is transferring to our school today and he’s going to shadow you all day. You are to meet him in front of the Baker dormitories,” Coach said as he handed John a document that had Sherlock’s name and a note saying John was to be his ‘mentor’ for the day.  
“Um, alright. Thank you, coach,” John said skimming the paper.  
“No problem son, now go on and get ready for classes. I already have enough angry teachers on my arse for keeping you boys on the field too late,” coach said as he clapped John on the shoulder and began walking away. John kept reading the paper and saw that this Sherlock Holmes bloke was also going to be his roommate. John’s last roommate had to drop out because his family had moved to Australia and although John liked having more room, he did have to admit that it was a bit lonely. As John made his way to the benches, he saw that Greg was waiting for him.  
“What’d he want?” Greg asked getting up and handing John his bag.  
“I’m getting a new roommate and Dimmock asked him to give me this paper saying I have to meet him because he’s going to shadow me today,” John answered giving Greg the paper and taking his bag to take out his phone.  
“Ah hopefully he plays rugby too. We could use some more players,” Greg said absentmindedly as he read through the paper.  
“Shit,” John swore and stopped as he read through the message on his phone.  
“What’s wrong?” Greg asked standing next to him, trying to look at his phone.  
“Harry got arrested for drunk driving and they’re holding her at the police station in Hatfield and she needs me to go get her, shit!” John swore again as he grabbed his sweats and threw them on on top of his shorts.  
“What are you doing, John?” Greg asked when he saw John getting dressed in the middle of the field.  
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m driving up to Hatfield and fixing Harry’s problems like I usually do. God, she’s only seventeen,” John said quickly taking off his shoes.  
“Mate you can’t go, you can’t just ditch classes and you have to meet this Holmes bloke,” Greg said waving the paper in front of his face.  
“Shit!” John swore again as he took the paper from Greg.  
“Yeah I know, mate, tough break,” Greg said looking down at his friend who was sitting on the field trying to put on his shoes.  
“These fucking shoes!” John shouted. Once he managed to change his shoes, he stood up and looked at Greg.  
“Look I can’t meet him, but you can. And I can’t drive my car to pick up Harry because I don’t have one, but I can take yours,” John said putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder.  
“Are you mad? He’s your roommate, I’m sure this is some bond, trust experiment thing alright, and my car doesn’t have enough petrol to get to Hatfield,” Greg said.  
“Look Greg, she’s my sister alright. Just tell this Holmes kid that there was an issue and that I’ll see him in our room tonight. And I’ll top off your tank, just lend me your car,” John pleaded.  
“You’re a mad bastard you know that,” Greg said as he fished for his car keys.  
“Thank you. And I’ll let you take Friday practice off so you can take Molly on that date,” John said giving Greg the paper back.  
“Oh you got yourself a deal Johnny boy,” Greg said, handing the keys to John who took off as soon as the metal touched his hand.  
“Thank you and don’t call me Johnny boy!” John yelled back as he ran towards the car park.  
“What’s the matter with him?” a freshly showered Victor asked as he stood next to Greg to watch John running in the distance.  
“Oh a family thing, I lent him my car, he had to take off,” Greg answered as his phone chimed.  
“And what’s this?” Victor asked taking the paper from Greg’s hand. He began reading it but stopped when Greg spoke.  
“Fucking hell!” Greg said looking down at his phone.  
“What’s happened?” Victor asked looking up from the paper.  
“Molly’s ill. She’s got a high fever and she’s throwing up, she wants me to take her to A&E,” Greg said.  
“Are you going to?” Victor asked.  
“Of course I am, she’s my girlfriend, you dickhead!” Greg said starting to walk away.  
“Didn’t you lend your car to Watson?” Victor asked catching up to Greg, who stopped at the question.  
“She’s got a car, we’ll just take hers,” Greg said as he wrote Molly a quick text saying he was on his way and that they’d need to take her car.  
“And what about this?” Victor said waving the paper in front of Greg.  
“Shit!” Greg swore as he took the paper and remembered he was supposed to be doing John a favour. When his phone chimed again, Greg realized being with Molly now was more important than a stupid date.  
“Look, mate, she’s really ill. Can you meet this Sherlock guy and let him follow you around all day? I really need to be with Molly right now, please?” Greg said holding the paper for Victor to take. Victor thought about it for a split second, thought about how he was technically doing John a favour and how he’d be able to rub it in his face and use it to his advantage later.  
“Of course I can, mate. Go be with your girl,” Victor said taking the paper from Greg.  
“Thanks a lot, mate. I owe you a pint!” Greg yelled back as he ran towards the Hodgkin dormitories.  
“No problem,” Victor muttered, smiling smugly the entire way to the Baker dormitories.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for taking the time to read this! This was a bit of a setup chapter, and it was long (12 pages!) but I wanted you all to get a feel for the characters, hopefully, I accomplished that. Our boys will definitely meet in the next chapter, sorry to not have them meet in this one, but hey, 'missed chances' is one of the tags! Leave a kudo or a comment if you like this please, motivation helps me write :)


End file.
